


Queen, Pawn, Rook

by bagog



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Detective Noir, Femme Fatale, Hardboiled, M/M, canon character death, noir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 18:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17924204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bagog/pseuds/bagog
Summary: Shepard is a washed-up private investigator who's just about lost it all. Suddenly, he is thrust into the personal affairs of one of the city's most notorious gangsters, but it's his own personal life that keeps cropping up along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [humblydefiant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humblydefiant/gifts), [sunwisecircles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwisecircles/gifts).



> My grand prize for my tumblr milestone giveaway was a 10k word story. [SunwiseCircles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunwisecircles/pseuds/sunwisecircles) won the fic and gifted it to [Humblydefiant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/humblydefiant/pseuds/humblydefiant), who requested Detective Mshenko! 
> 
> I really hope I did your idea proud, Humbles! Special thanks to [Michael_Ackart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michael_Ackart/pseuds/Michael_Ackart) for the beta-read!

Nighttime made the city seem like it made sense, even for just a little while. The buildings became grids of lights, the streets were glowing arteries. Everything was easily divvied up into light and dark: the shop windows, the car headlights, the skyscrapers. Even the people: walk the streets long enough one night and you get to see all kinds of people, but they could basically be divided into who was walking like they owned the night and who was walking like the night owned them.

At the same time, the darkness brought out a grime that the sun outshone. The steam seeping out of a manhole cover, the garbage pooling against the curb. Even the people—no matter how they walked—were all oily shadows passing from streetlight to streetlight, the sounds of the city their heartbeat.

I wasn’t one to talk, after all, I didn’t wake up, most days, until the sun went down, my cat stomping on my face to get herself fed. She reminded me I wasn’t alone, but she couldn’t do a very good job of it. Probably too much to expect from a cat, anyhow. I didn’t hate the city, not exactly. I just couldn’t decide if it was too small and suffocating or too big and… suffocating.

“Last call, Shepard.” Joker limped up to me behind the bar, holding my favorite whiskey. Well, second favorite. Had a hard time stomaching the really good stuff since _he_ left. I held out two fingers and pushed my glass forward. Joker filled it with one finger and slid it back. “You’re walking home, right?”

“Course I am,” I was slurring and I knew it. Joker just nodded. I’d shut down the Normandy again, and I didn’t know which was bigger, my bar-tab or my headache.  Joker had the lights off and the door locked behind me almost as soon as I got to the street. I was alone, again. I had just eight blocks to walk before I got to my apartment, and it was starting to rain. I pulled up the collar on my coat and leveled my hat over my brow. Rain ruined the illusion of the night, smeared all the organized little boxes of light into one big bright blob as sheets of rain slid down the streets and alleys. _He_ had always preferred the sound of rain on the city streets while I preferred the street sounding like itself.

A car pulled up to the curb behind me and the engine was turned off.   I was drunk, I was pitying myself, but it wasn’t hard to recognize I was being tailed. Unfortunately, knowing I was being tailed and being able to lose the tail were two separate things, tonight.

There was a squeal of tires and a jet-black car raced up to me, two big men getting out, one of them bagging my head and the other grabbing my arms behind my back, shoving me into the back of the car. I cussed out the men pushing me in, but they didn’t make a sound, and I quickly gave up.

My head was swimming and I couldn’t see, but I kept track of the turns as best as I could—left up 49th, right down Masonic Lodge Blvd… after a while it became clear where I was being taken.

The Cronos Manor. The Illusive Man.

++

By the time the bag was pulled off my head, I was sat across from the Illusive Man, separated by a heavy mahogany desk. The room was dimly lit, goons hiding in the corners, only visible from their glittering teeth, sneering at me from the dark. The Illusive Man sat casually in his desk chair, one leg crossed over the other, leaning back and enjoying a cigarette.

“I trust this isn’t a social visit.” No use in drawing this out. I didn’t know what a man like the Illusive Man would want with me and it was time to find out.

“On the contrary, Shepard. Last time I saw you was, what? Years ago.”

“I remember. First time in your lovely home, though. That crown moulding really is something,” I slurred.

“I have a job for you. One I think you’ll be interested in. I know you get sick of chasing around unfaithful spouses. How about a change of pace?”

“I’m a man of habit, what makes you think I’m looking for something new?”

“No need to play coy, Shepard. The job is simple,” said the Illusive Man, smoke curling from his mouth. “My daughter, Miranda, has been keeping strange company, lately.”

“Seems to me you’re in the business of strange company.” There was a model of the city on his desk: plans for future developments. One area in particular was highlighted, a new model building amidst the old city.

“Too true, and while it’s my business to immerse myself in the peculiarities and the dregs of our city, I’ve always kept a barrier between my work life and my family.” There was the hint of a smile in his voice. I flicked my eyes to the desk, where the folded newspaper concealed the barrel of his revolver. “Her latest excursions, I fear, are beginning to blur that line.”

“You’re hiring a private eye to spy on your own daughter,” I scoffed. “Can’t imagine why she’d ever want to get away.”

“You’ve heard enough about me to know that I am not a man to take chances where the things he cares about are concerned. My daughter’s choices are her own, having me as a father is a curse and a blessing.” In the light of the desk lamp, his eyes shimmered like two hematite points catching the light. “Find out who my daughter is spending her time with. Find out who I need to bless. Find out who I need to curse.”

He held my gaze, and with practiced fingers, removed a cigarette from its golden case and lit the tip with the glowing stub still between his lips.

“We never discussed my fee—“

“No, we didn’t. And we won’t. I’ll pay double your standard fee and throw in a little extra.” He leveled his eyes at me. “I know you’re on hard times.”

So much for out-pricing the old bastard. I’d never met her, but a dame like Miranda wouldn’t be easy to pin down. Daughters of rich men: always twice as crafty as their dads and better at covering up their messes with money. But unfortunately, he was right.

“Alright, I’ll do it. But first you’re going to be straight with me. Why me?”

He grinned like a tiger eyeing a meal.

“I need a man who won’t be… distracted on the job. And besides, I’ve always had an affinity for fixing broken things, Shepard.”

Some nerve. But I guess when you have five goons ready to pummel me into the ground and one of the biggest crime empires in the city behind you, you’ve earned the nerve.

++

‘Distracting’ was one word to describe Miranda Lawson. Tall, more curves than she had visible pores, dark hair left to hang free down past her shoulders. She looked nothing like her father, with warm eyes and a tall frame. The only thing she wore of her father’s was his domineering sneer, and in the way she moved you could see she had every ounce of her father’s intimidating presence.

She just hid it under the glitz and glam. In a word, she was perfect. Not my type, but watching her through the lens of my camera was like photographing an art exhibit. She didn’t have a bad angle, and she knew it, kept her back to the wall.

Tailing her had been hard for exactly that reason. Once or twice on the first day alone I could’ve sworn she made me. Hell, for all I knew, she had and was playing it that cool. I wouldn’t put it past her. This took more attention than my usual infidelity cases, would pay to lay off the booze for a while.

The money the Illusive Man was going to pay me could buy a lot of booze, or could be a catalyst to start a new life. But what was the point if _he_ wasn’t here?

It was a hot, dark night when I finally tailed her to the Collector Club. Got to admit, the old man had good instincts about his daughter. The Collector Club was about the seediest club in the city: all shimmering gold and finery that attracted any mobster or crimeboss in 5 postal codes. Like moths hovering around an electric light, eating their steaks and laughing about ‘the business’. Had been a while since I’d set foot in the place—I’d been on the wrong end of too many of the regulars.

Miranda walked in like she owned the place, greeted at the door with a convivial “Miss Lawson!” by the doorman who took her coat. It wasn’t exactly strange to find a lady like Miranda at the Collector Club—half the patrons didn’t know the other half were organized crime—but Miranda didn’t seem like the kind to be fattening up at the same trough as some of the naïve patrons of the club.

Her week so far had been a standard socialite affair: one social engagement after another. Over to an expensive restaurant for lunch, off to some mansion on the west end for the afternoon, then over to some night-club or other before returning home at precisely midnight. She was punctual, meticulous, leaving on the hour for whatever she was doing. She was probably the sort of lady who had no trouble filling the silence when things got dull.

I couldn’t risk trailing her into the club, so it was time to wait. I hated stakeouts—plenty of time to get lonely, or drunk. It was almost 3am by the time Miranda walked out of the club, arm in arm with a man. This was uncharacteristic. He was dressed to the nines, black suit and black tie, and he led her to her car as the valet pulled up in it. Then he got in the backseat with her.

I tailed the car with my headlights off—drivers for VIPs like Miranda would be looking out for being followed. I seemed to track them all over the city, up one street and down another. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they were leading me on. But finally, the car pulled up to the west side docks and came to a stop. The man from the club stepped out of the car—now dressed in a brown jacket and tan slacks—and leaned back into the window. For a kiss? For a final instruction? I only had my imagination to go on. He was off into the shadows in no time, and Miranda’s car peeled away. For a moment, I thought about following the man on foot, but I could barely tell where he’d gotten to, already.

Miranda got home, safe and sound, by the stroke of 4am. It still didn’t feel like there was a case here—nothing more than a little of the usual rich-girl escapades. But with the pressure the Illusive Man was putting on me, I’d need to get to the bottom of something. Maybe it was time to pull in a few favors.


	2. Chapter 2

The Collector Club was a glittering, three story monstrosity of a nightclub. All the glitz and glam the upper-crust could pour into one old building, looking like a gem in the dung heap of the rest of the block—boarded shop windows and crumbling brownstones.

At the same time, I knew—like anyone who submerged his hands in the filth of this city—that the Collector Club was the shadiest establishment in town. The doorman took my coat at the door, which only served to highlight how shabby I looked in the old tweed dinner jacket and the water-stained hat I wore.

Inside, the club had a soft glow to it—crystal chandeliers and gold fixtures hung over a rich mahogany carpet. It was thick under my shoes like red moss, and the tinkling of forks on plates along with the laughter and conversation of the patrons were muffled by a number of heavy curtains partitioning off the space into dark, intimate little islands where the city’s most successful mobsters dined like kings. Up above it all, at the top of a winding staircase with mother-of-pearl handrails, the window of the owner’s office looked out on the dining floor, the only vantage point that could see into every dark corner. The window was blocked, as it always had been when the job brought me here, by its own thick set of curtains.

No one knew who owned the club, other than by his moniker: “The Sovereign”. He maintained the club as neutral ground from all the underground business in the city. Reapers and Cerberus both walked up and down the makeshift aisles, the restaurant strangely segregated by the two most successful of the city’s gangs. The man himself was something of a recluse. I’d never met anyone who’d ever laid eyes on him.

But I wasn’t looking for the Sovereign tonight, but for someone a little closer to the pavement of the city’s secrets. And there she was, sitting as far from the Cerberus side of the room as possible and surrounded by a posse of muscleheads.

“Shepard,” she called out to me over the brim of her bourbon glass.

“Aria.” I was surprised she could tear her eyes away from the spectacle in front of her, kneeling on the table was one of the Collector Club’s famously limber dancers, performing in what looked like the scanty remnants of one of the clubs glittering chandeliers. Aria herself was dressed more modestly, a white tuxedo jacket and blue bow-tie, her hair pulled back away from her face and that shrewd look in her eyes. She didn’t smile often, and when she did, it was the smile of a shark.

“Have a seat,” she nodded and one of the meatheads stood up, freeing a spot near Aria. He walked over and pulled the curtain closed, shutting out the rest of the nightclub. “Have a drink. Have a look.”

“Mind if I smoke?” I asked, sitting down. The dancer was gyrating to her own music, and I was surprised Aria hadn’t sent her away.

“By all means,” she snapped and one of the thugs with whiskey eyes leaned over with a lighter, lighting the tip of my cigarette, his slender fingers making quick work of the mechanism. “I know you like them dark and dreamy,” Aria narrowed her eyes, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at her lips. She nodded to the thug who had just lit my cigarette, my eyes must have lingered on him just a moment too long. “I know you’ve always had a thing for brown eyes.”

“Didn’t expect to find you here,” I said, ignoring the call-out. “Doesn’t Omega have some business on south side, tonight?”

“Since I took over the Blue Suns, the Blood Pack, and the Eclipse, I’ve acquired interests all over the city.” She held her drink up to the dancers’ lips and let her take a sip, a bead of bourbon running down her chin. “Besides, Omega is undergoing renovations. Which you knew, or you wouldn’t be here. Tell me what it is you want, Shepard.”

“Funny you should mention Omega.” The Queen of Omega kept her eyes on the dancer, “I’m calling in that favor.” That got her attention.

“John Shepard, PI, calling in a favor I regret owing to you. What’s the matter, Shepard? Are you that broke or in that deep?”

“Just looking for some answers.”

“You’re not even the first private dick I’ve entertained this week,” she scoffed. “You’re all the same, in the end.”

That was a surprise.

“Who?”

“Is that your question, Shepard?”

“Do I only get one?” I tapped my cigarette over the ash tray and tried to size up the muscle. Three of them: the muscle mountain whose seat I took, Mr. Beautiful, and a wily looking man with a long moustache. “I would’ve thought our last meeting at Omega was worth a little more than one question.”

Aria grunted and took her time with the next drink. “An old friend of yours. Anderson. ‘David’ Anderson I think.”

“Anderson was here?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”  I hadn’t seen Anderson in a long time, the idea that he’d been on a trail that led to Aria was unsettling. The only reason to seek Aria out is if you were looking for information you didn’t want the Reapers or Cerberus to know you were getting. “Is this the part where _you_ ask me about Jacob, too?”

“Jacob who? What did Anderson want with him?”

“Jacob Taylor. A newcomer to the club. Everybody who bothers to walk through the door at the Collector Club is a body worth knowing, but nobody knew anything about Jacob before a few weeks ago.” She reached out a hand and motioned for the table-dancer to spin around. She immediately obliged.

“Some new-money upstart?”

“No. I would’ve heard about that. Same if he was a lieutenant rising in one of the city’s… inelegant mafias.” She scowled at the word. Despite being the Queen of Omega, the Reapers and Cerberus always managed to stay a step or two ahead of Aria. It galled her, but it was a rare day she’d let it show.

“So he’s not new-money and he’s not working for Cerberus—“

“Oh I wouldn’t say he’s completely free of the stink of the Illusive Man’s little operation.” She nodded and Mr. Beautiful stood up to check around the corner of the curtain. “He came in with Miranda Lawson, after all. But that’s who you’re really interested in, isn’t it, Shepard?”

“What makes you think that?”

Aria laughed: a cruel sound.

“Because that’s what Anderson was after, too. He didn’t want to admit it any more than you do, but you ex-cops are all the same.”

“Anderson used to say ‘there’s always a dame at the center of the trouble,’” I remembered aloud.

“And where else should they be? Good girls don’t rule the world, Shepard, and neither do the bad men. We just let them think they do.”

“What’s Miranda doing with—“

Suddenly, there was a crash on the other side of the curtain, the sound of a fist connecting with a jaw, then a man was hurtling through the curtain and bowled over Mr. Beautiful before the brute could react. Aria snapped and the dancer ran, the two other brutes reaching for the pieces inside their suit jackets. The laughing patrons at the nearest tables turned as well, drawing derringers from evening clutch purses and switch blades from tuxedo pants. They formed a wall around Aria.

I scrambled up from my seat and ducked under the curtain, just in time to see a man in tan slacks dashing through the befuddled crowd and out the door. I gave chase.

Out on the street, I had already lost him, but I picked a direction and started running. But I was too late.

++

I tailed Miranda again the next night on foot, sticking to the shadows as much as possible. I’d been sitting on the cold sidewalk waiting for what felt like hours when I heard it:

It was the click of another camera, coming from a dark corner.

I recognized that silhouette before I knew I recognized it. Ran like an army man, all right angles in the arms and legs, and booking it like the devil was chasing him. But it was no devil, just me, running before I realized I was running. It was a coin-flip which was burning more, my legs or my lungs. The man I was chasing didn’t seem to be slowing down, and for the first time since I got out of the force, I regretted swapping out my morning calisthenics for a finger of whiskey and a raw egg.

He ducked into an alley—he knew the streets as well as I did—making for the twisting labyrinth that was the electrical sub-station on Carter and Comanche. There was no time to pat myself on the back for keeping pace, the alley was so dark, I was chasing the sound of his shoes on the pavement. The clack-clack-clack of those pristine shoes in the darkness, then: a ruckus up ahead. Before I knew it my foot connected with an overturned crate, laid me flat on the stinking ground. My hands were scuffed and my knees would be bleeding under some torn slacks, but that wasn’t enough to make me quit. Up ahead, I saw the shape of him up ahead at the far end of the alley—standing stock still. Couldn’t tell if he was looking back at me or looking ahead, but god, my imagination ran away with me.

With a squeak of my shoes and a grunt, I took off after him again. He ran, too. Probably regretting stopping to check on me, always was a softie. I was close enough to grab at the corner of his coat—then he leapt left around the corner and let me careen into a fence I hadn’t seen coming. There was a single street lamp up ahead, but didn’t cast much light beyond the little circle on the ground, and Kaidan was running straight for it. I needed a different plan.

Slipping off my shoes, I gave chase again, hugging the wall and stepping silently. He stopped at the edge of the light, even as a silhouette, I could tell he was breathing hard, pulling at the air with his shoulders. It reminded me to control my own heavy breathing. Closed my coat, raised the collar around my face. Must’ve thought I’d stopped chasing him after that second crash. If I weren’t me, I’d have assumed I quit chasing, too. That was the John Shepard he knew.

Just as he turned to go on his way, I leapt out of the darkness, grabbing at his coat. He pivoted and we both tumbled into the light from the street lamp, struggled to get to our feet. And there he was, sure as the day, Kaidan Alenko, amber eyes ablaze.

“Kaidan,” I held up my hands, I wasn’t going to win this fight, I didn’t want to win this fight.

Pow. Quick as that, Kaidan laid a fist into my face, hard enough where I had to stagger backwards. But Kaidan wasn’t done with me, grabbed my lapels and shoved me against the streetlight post. Soon as I felt the smart in my cheek from his fist, Kaidan’s lips met mine. Pow. It was electric, our chests heaving from the run and the taste of whiskey on his tongue, my loose hat tumbled off my head and my arms pulled at Kaidan’s coat.

“John Shepard,” he breathed, pulling back. “You son of a bitch. I thought I told you I never wanted to see you again.” I leaned in for another kiss, just captured Kaidan’s lips, just caught the air of that cheap after-shave, then he was pulling away. “No, that was a mistake.” But I could see the look in his eyes, and I took his shoulders and kissed him again, nothing but the sounds of the street bearing witness to the least likely reunion.

“I missed you,” I whispered against his lips when we pulled away.

“Maybe you even did,” he pulled back, straightened his back and squared his shoulders. He was looking at me with that old Kaidan gaze that seemed to penetrate straight through my skin. “You look good.” He said, as if he was surprised.

“So do you.”

“Hm.” He reached into his jacket and removed a cigarette, lit a match on his thumbnail. I got out a cigarette myself, but couldn’t find my lighter as I patted my pockets. Kaidan hesitated a moment, then lit a second match, held it close to his body to keep it out of the draft up the street, I leaned in and lit the tip. I could smell his cologne. “Took me a second to realize it was you chasing me.”

“I knew it was you right away,” I puffed on the cigarette, tapped the ash into the air.

“And I didn’t think this case could get any…” He chose the next word like he was plucking a coal out of a fire. “Stranger.”

I almost said it, almost said ‘I wish every day to see you again.’ But I kept my cool, the cigarette helped, something to keep my mouth busy so it couldn’t go running off without me. Kaidan cut an impressive figure—blue suit, as always, but darker these days, keeping up with the fashion of the times. He stood straighter these days, too. Looked bigger, too, more muscle bulk under the linen shirt, thighs pulling the pleat of his slacks flat. I cleared my throat.

“What are you doing here?” The smoke was making me feel warmer, or maybe it was being this close to Kaidan again. “Who hired you? Why would you be following Miranda Lawson?”

Kaidan’s mouth turned into a hard line, his eyes squinting at me.

“What makes you think I’m in any mood to share anything with you, Shepard?”

“Simple,” I patted the notebook I’d been keeping in my coat. “I have information you want, you have information I want. We can help each other.”

He seemed to think for a long time, then finally nodded.

“You get to go first on that one.” He stooped to pick up my hat, set it back on my head, maybe he was even a little affectionate about how he did it. Maybe I was still light-headed from the chase and was filling my lungs with smoke instead of air.

“Fair’s fair, you’re not the one who got socked in the jaw.”

“You gonna lecture me about fair, Shepard?”

He had me dead to rights there, I winced and pulled a drag off the cigarette. You didn’t discuss your case with anyone, but Kaidan wasn’t just anyone.

“Tailing Miranda Lawson, same as you, I’ll bet,” I supplied, Kaidan nodded. “As for the rest of it, I think we better get off the street, don’t you?” Kaidan nodded again.

“We can go back to my office, Penny’ll be gone for the night, it’ll be just us.” I swallowed hard at that: so this is what it was like to be given a chance. He looked down at my shoeless feet, “We better find your shoes.”

We got my shoes and traced our way back to Kaidan’s car. The drive to his office didn’t take too long, and we sat in silence the whole time. It was like the bad-old-times all over again: penned in with a Kaidan who couldn’t stand being around me, when all I wanted was to be with him. Well, if that’s _all_ I’d wanted, then maybe I wouldn’t have made so many bad choices.

We parked on the street, and it was a short walk to the little brownstone Kaidan maintained as an office. He took the stairs two at a time, and I trailed behind, already wishing I had another cigarette to keep me busy.

 As we walked down the hall, I saw a lamp on inside, the letters on the door stood out in stark relief:

ALLIANCE PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS  
KAIDAN ALENKO * DAVID ANDERSON

Another name to make me freeze in my tracks. I hadn’t thought this through, I was crazy to have come here.

“Kaidan, wait.” I stopped stock still in the middle of the hallway. “I don’t think I’m ready to see him yet. I just… I’m sorry.”

“Well you won’t have to worry about that,” he said bluntly. He unlocked the office door and held it open. “Anderson’s dead. Body turned up in the river two nights ago. Haven’t had the heart to chip his name off the door just yet.”

My shoes might as well have been glued to the floor. I couldn’t speak, felt like I’d been punched in the gut. Kaidan’s face was hard, and he simply cocked his head indicating I should get in the office, already.

“What happened?” I finally managed to stutter out. Kaidan checked down the hall after I got into the office and closed the door behind me.

“Two weeks ago, we got this case—looking into Miranda Lawson. Got the job from a man named Henry Judge. He was evasive about why he wanted Miranda tracked down: not too old to be a jilted lover, but Miranda’s not the sort who needs the money, y’know?” He pulled the knot out of his tie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his dress shirt.

“What’d you find out on Judge?”

“Not much,” Kaidan shook his head. “Almost no paper trail on him, always surrounded by body-guards. Figured the name had to be an alias, but a scrubbed one. It was like he wasn’t even trying to hide that he was using a fake name with us. The whole thing felt wrong from the start. Anderson didn’t want to take the case, I didn’t either: the kind of woman Miranda Lawson is, plus all the cloak-and-dagger from Judge…”

“But?”

“But then Anderson heard from one of his contacts over at Omega. Something about Miranda Lawson meeting with a private party there before taking it to the Collector Club. Timing seemed too perfect to be a coincidence, so we started tailing her. Best as we could anyway.”

As Kaidan spoke, I’d been staring at Anderson’s desk. It was tidy, though not as tidy as Kaidan’s, and the desk was too big for what little Anderson kept on it. I could remember him buying it, just after his retirement from the force, sanding it down and re-varnishing it. Hauling it up all those stairs and into this office…

“And Anderson?”

Kaidan sighed.

“I was spending the night outside Omega, waiting to see if Miranda was going to show. Anderson was working another angle, trying to follow Judge a little bit. He was convinced that if we figure out the connection between the two, we crack a bigger case.”

“Sounds like Anderson, always trying to bite off more than he could chew.” There were little model planes lined up on the desk, little model planes that used to be on my desk, back when I still had a desk here.

“He didn’t show up the next day, didn’t call, didn’t leave a message, nothing. Next day, body washed up. Police confirmed it was Anderson.” His voice broke a little bit, a sound I hadn’t heard from Kaidan in a long time. He sniffed, drew another cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his hand was steady as ever, even as the glow of the cigarette showed how glassy his eyes had become at the memory. I didn’t think about it, just took his hand in mine.

“I wanna find the bastards who did this.”

“Me too,” Kaidan squeezed my hand—or was it my imagination—before pulling his free. He leaned back against his desk, letting the cigarette hang off his lip as he spoke. “Been photographing Miranda every night since, but I don’t think it was her that did Anderson in.”

“You think it’s someone connected to Judge?” Kaidan nodded. “Something doesn’t add up. Guy uses a fake name, doesn’t hide it, gives you nothing to work with… then kills Anderson but keeps you on retainer?”

“He’s either up to something or thinks he’s too powerful to get caught.” Kaidan scowled, pulled his hat off and threw it onto his desk chair, his coat soon following it. He slicked back his hair into a perfect coif and I tried not to stare at the way his chest pressed against the linen of his shirt. “And they’re right, too. What’s a small-time PI gonna do about it? Not a damn thing I can do except keep following the case and hoping something shows up.”

It was my turn to share, and I told him about the Illusive Man, the deal he’d struck… and the money.

“Working for Cerberus,” Kaidan spat.

“They black-bagged me, Kaidan!”

He didn’t seem entirely satisfied, but he let the subject drop. In the dim light of his desk lamp, I was transfixed with his forearms, the way he rolled his sleeves back to his elbows. Everything I missed was standing in front of me.

“It sounds like this Jacob Taylor might be a lead.”

He poured himself a drink and offered one to me.

“No, I’m quitting drinking. At least for this case.” Kaidan seemed to look at me with new eyes, and I continued. “We can work together at this, you can find out some dirt of Jacob and I’ll see what I can get about Miranda. See if we can get to the bottom of this. It’ll be like old times.”

“No it won’t,” Kaidan sighed. But his eyes were soft when I met his gaze.

It was more than I could have hoped for in years.


	3. Chapter 3

With Kaidan on the trail of Jacob Taylor, I was free to tail the lovely Miss Lawson again. Her limo made straight for the Collector Club, just like last night, but this time, before she could get out, she motioned to the driver and they peeled out of the valet parking awning. I was following at a distance in my car, trying to keep pace without them noticing me.

But the way they were driving, they were definitely trying to lose a tail. I turned the corner only to find the limo gone, and another car parked across the roadway. There was a big brute of a man standing in my way, and another coming up on the driver’s side. Damn, this was happening. Time to turn on the ol’ Shepard charm.

“Hello, boys.” I got socked in the jaw by the brute pulling me out of my car. The two of them dragged me between them up the dark street until I saw Miranda Lawson’s limo idling at the curb.

I was muscled into the back of the car and the door was shut with a decisive ‘click’. There she was: Miranda Lawson, decked out in a shimmering white evening gown and a white mink cloak draped over one arm, she had a champagne flute in one hand and a revolver in the other. I was sitting across from her in the limo, and big as the car was, I felt distinctly claustrophobic. Not Miranda, though. Cool as a cucumber, and at home: in her element.

“Not a very good private eye, are you?” She began, red lips against the champagne glass.

“Maybe just an unorthodox one.”

“Maybe.” She seemed to seriously consider it, “So let’s pretend this is just how you wanted it to go, Mister…?”

“Shepard. Just ‘Shepard’ will do, fine.”

“Alright Shepard, so you’ve got my attention. Now tell me why I shouldn’t have those big men outside beat you to a pulp and leave you in the gutter.” She kept her pistol leveled at me with a practiced and steady hand. Was probably a better shot than me, if I’m being honest.

“Because all I want is to ask you a few questions.”

“How about I ask a few questions, and then if I’m feeling charitable, I let you ask yours?” She leaned forward, now on the edge of her seat.

“Doubt I’ll get a better offer.”

“Who hired you to follow me?”

“Your father.”

Her eyes narrowed at this and she sat back, still keeping her eye and her barrel trained on me. It didn’t look entirely like she wasn’t expecting that answer. Those red lips parted just slightly, but she kept silent for a long moment.

“Interesting.” It was odd to see her off her game, if only for an instant. Something was wrong, it was as if she wanted to ask another question but something was keeping her quiet.

“Now what’s a lady like you doing in the Collector Club night after night?”

Her smile turned acidic once again.

“Not a crime to frequent a club.”

“You know what kind of club the Collector Club is, though, don’t you?”

She seemed to bristle at this, downing the rest of her champagne in one swig and setting the glass down.

“The question is, do _you_ know what kind club the Collector is, Shepard.” She spat my name. “You can tell my father whatever you like about my activities. I’m not hiding anything. But you are going to leave me alone,” she brandished the gun, bringing it to eye level, “Or the next time we have a little chat like this, you’ll be spitting out your teeth, understand me, Shepard?” She motioned to the man outside the car and he opened the door.

“What if I tell him about Jacob Taylor.” It was a long shot, I had no idea what the relationship Miranda had with Jacob, but it was my only chance to stay in the car and get some actual information. Miranda held up her hand and the brute stopped, she reached out herself and slammed the car door.

“What do you know about Jacob Taylor?”

“Just enough to be dangerous.”

“Jacob isn’t any concern of yours. I wouldn’t go bringing him up to… my father,” her tone lingered on the word ‘father.’ “Be careful Mr. Shepard, the deeper you dig into my father’s world—into _my_ world—the more likely you are to find something that isn’t worth all the money my father can pay you.”

“Sometimes that’s part of the job, Miss.”

“So it’s professionalism, then?” She scoffed. “Alright, then. As a professional courtesy, let me tell you a little something about the Collector Club—it’s neutral ground for a reason, and anything that tips that balance is liable to start a war. You don’t want to be in the middle of that.”

“And you do?”

“I can handle myself, not sure you can say the same.” She eyed me disdainfully.

“Why Miss Lawson,” I tried to smile, “I believe you just made a threat.”

“I don’t need to threaten you, Shepard. Just stating the facts. I like to attract the kind of attention that doesn’t involve dead bodies in my orbit. You’re working for a dangerous man.” Her eyes narrowed, just slightly, as if she had said too much. She opened the door and set her pistol down just as the brute reached in to haul me out of the car. Next thing I knew, the brute clocked be across the jaw and I fell against the car. He grabbed me by my shoulders to spin me around and laid another one across my cheek, the sound of meat slapping meat, and I staggered back. Miranda rolled down her window, her face a beautiful mask of a gloat. “Something to remember me by, Shepard.”

The window rolled up and the car drove away. The brute gave me one more dark look before turning and getting into his own car, trailing after the limo.

++

I didn’t get too far before the same black car pulled up from the other night. This just wasn’t shaping up to be my night.

“Let’s skip the black bag this time, fellas,” I said, holding up my hands and getting into the back of the car. Without the bag on my head, I could see the opulence of Cronos Manor as they led me down marbled hallways and up an ornate spiral staircase, till at last I came to the Illusive Man’s office. ****  
  


“You know,” I wrenched my jacket sleeve out of the muscle man’s grip. “I was supposed to report in to you tomorrow morning, as is.”

“Yes, well,” the Illusive Man lit a cigarette from the dying butt of one in his other hand. “What is life without a little spontaneity?”

“Normal.”

“Nothing about the life I lead is ‘normal’, Shepard. As you know all too well, I’m sure.”

“What I know is that I don’t appreciate being dragged in here— _again_ —like I’m someone who owes you money.” There was a little more irritation in my voice than I wished there would be. Truth is I was in over my head and the Illusive Man was Mr. Deep-End, with his daughter at the center of the whole case.

“Then hopefully you’ll accept my apologies and,” he reached into his drawer and removed an envelope full of bills, “A little gratuity.”

“Aw,” I regarded him with a half-smile. “If you were trying to butter me up, you coulda just bought me a nice steak sandwich.” It was something Kaidan said to me on our first date, I had no idea why it had popped into my head right now. Anything to have Kaidan in the room with me in some way.

“Priming the pump, Shepard. You’re a well of knowledge I intend to treat very delicately. Which is why I’m so alarmed to see your face bruised, your lip split.” He took a hearty drag on his coffin nail, maybe hoping I’d spill in the silence. “Tell me it was my men who did this and I’ll have them punished. I instructed them to bring you to me with the utmost care.”

“Little altercation from earlier,” I lied. “You know us drunk-types.”

“And I thought you’d been abstaining from drink since taking this case.”

“Doesn’t mean the drink doesn’t catch up with you, anyhow.”

He had piercing eyes and they were boring into me now.

“Tell me about my daughter, Shepard.”

“I’d have some photos for you if you’d given me any time to develop them before hauling me in.”

“I have a very good imagination.”

“Your daughter’s slippery.” I was stalling. What _did_ I know about Miranda Lawson after following her for just a few days? I knew I couldn’t mention Jacob Taylor until I had some confirmation from Kaidan about what was going on there. I knew Miranda was hiding something from her father, but I was starting to wonder if I was on the right side of this.

“That’s why I’m paying you a substantial salary, Shepard.” Just the barest hint of impatience had crept into his voice.

“She’s a regular at the Collector Club. Got her own table, her own little clique.” I watched his eyes, “Based on you look on your face, it’s not your car that’s taking her.” I pulled a cigarette from my pocket and a match from my coat. “You want more than that, you need to give me more time.” I lit the cigarette and watched the Illusive Man through the smoke.

“Alright, Shepard.” He snapped his fingers and two of his goons grabbed my shoulders, “You’re going to find out who’s driving that car.”

“You’ve got business with the Collector Club, don’t you?” It was a hunch, and the Illusive Man’s face didn’t betray a thing, except one of his posse glanced for a moment at the model of the city on the desk. It wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for a socialite like Miranda Lawson to go to the Collector Club, except that she was the daughter of the Illusive Man. Still, it _was_ supposed to be neutral ground, unless it wasn’t…

“Be careful,” he said, eyes gleaming. “You look like you’ve already taken quite the beating tonight. Get home safe, Shepard.”

The two goons spun me around and the men who had crushed into the office behind me slowly parted to allow the goons to haul me out.

I recognized the man in the corner from Kaidan’s photos: it was Jacob Taylor!

**++**

Took me a long time getting back to my apartment that night. I almost drew my gun when I found the door unlocked, but I could smell that familiar cologne…

 “Jesus, Shepard,” Kaidan exclaimed when I came in, gingerly touching the puffy area around my eye where Miranda’s boys had socked me. “You turned on the Ol’ Shepard Charm this time, didn’t you?”

“Got me some information—Ah!” I winced when he pushed a little harder. “How’d you get into my place, anyway? You pick the lock?”

“I, uh,” Kaidan walked to the freezer, wrapped some ice-cubes in one of my grungy dish-towels. “I still have the key you gave me.” I smiled and it hurt my jaw, but I had it back under control by the time Kaidan turned back. It was probably healthiest to assume he held onto my key because he was a good snoop, and wouldn’t give up something like that just because we’d broken up. “What happened to you, anyway?”

“Miranda’s goons caught me tailing her.” I leaned my face into the towel Kaidan placed against my eye, and he lifted one of my hands to press it against my socket. “Got a chance to talk to her. She played it cool, but she seemed rattled about something. When she found out I was working for her father, she got real quiet.”

“You’d figure she’d expect her father to be keeping eyes on her.”

“Maybe she’s just surprised he hired outside help to be his eyes and ears.” Kaidan loosened his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He smoothed a hand over his hair, perfectly coifed despite being under a hat all day. God, he looked gorgeous.

“I’ve been wondering about that, actually. Said he hired me because I don’t go for the ladies. But that can’t be it. Best I can figure, he needs someone outside his organization.”

“How’s that?”

“Cerberus is all built on loyalty—makes sense that if the Illusive Man is hiring me, he thinks the loyalty of his outfit is questionable.”

“Could just be that Miranda would recognize one of his usual goons.”

“Sure, sure,” I watched as Kaidan adjusted his suspenders, the way they pulled tight over his chest. “But he’s got boys that know how to be invisible as well as I do. He’s got cops in his pocket—more people than even Miranda knows about. It makes sense that if he thinks Miranda could turn anyone loyal to ‘the family’, he’d look for outside help. Someone who’s loyal only to the money. Someone who needs it. Someone who’s desperate for a paycheck.”

“You.”

“Yeah,” I swallowed. “Me.”

“Well, if he’s worried about loyalty, I think I might have found his leak.” Kaidan leaned back against my kitchen counter—covered in pots and pans, a few bills, a bowl and a whiskey glass. My apartment was tiny, one room, bedroom and kitchen sort of blended together. “Tailing Jacob Taylor, found him down by the docks. He’s working for the Reapers, Shepard.”

“I saw him in the Illusive Man’s office!”

Kaidan nodded.

“I tailed him for 12 hours. Man barely sleeps, you’d like him.”

“I sleep.”

Kaidan pointed to the mattress against the corner of the room, covered in papers and clothes.

“When was the last time you slept in that?” In truth, it had been more than a few weeks. I usually ended up crashing in the chair, tossing whatever was on it onto the bed. I felt a little embarrassed, especially remembering Kaidan’s apartment, spick and span. His big bed…

“You got me there. So how do you know Taylor is working for the Reapers.”

“I recognize enough of their outfit. Doesn’t seem like he reports to any of the usual group, though. So either he’s high-ranking… in which case Aria would’ve known about him when you talked to her the other night.”

“Or he’s special, for some reason.” I pulled the ice off my face and set it down. “A mole.” Kaidan nodded.

“Question is: who is he _really_ working for and who is he double-crossing?”

“Maybe he’s only loyal to Miranda.”

“So it all comes back to her, what’s she playing at?”

I wiggled my jaw, it was finally starting to feel better.

“Miranda said something about the Collector Club and the balance of power in the city.”

“Maybe she’s involved with whoever owns the place.”

I shook my head, “We’re not going to figure it out without doing some more research. I feel like the Collector Club is at the center of this thing. The Illusive Man bristled when I brought it up.”

“Alright, I’ll start looking into that tomorrow. Mean-time, you should get an actual night’s rest” Kaidan picked up his coat and set his hat on his head. “I should get going.”

“Or you could stay.” It slipped out before I knew what I was doing. I didn’t want to beat around the bush with Kaidan, not anymore. Not again.

“Where would I sleep?” Kaidan asked, voice annoyed, but with a coy note.

“With me.” I hauled myself up and pressed my lips to Kaidan’s. I could taste the lingering whiskey on Kaidan’s tongue, the first drop I’d had in a while, and I fell off the wagon. I put my hand on his face, rough stubble under my fingers, like he hadn’t shaved today—up all night stalking after a lead. It got me hot under the collar, thinking about my man out there on the job.

‘My man’? Where did that come from? I didn’t have time to think about it, because Kaidan backed me against the table, his hands on my hips, half pulling me back, half pulling my shirt out from where it was tucked into my slacks. His kisses were as rough as his chin, and every time I thought he might be pulling me away, I pressed forward.

“Shepard,” he muttered between our lips. I must have looked like a wet puppy when he finally pulled away, because he stopped for a moment and cradled my face in his hand. “I need to know what this is.”

“What do you mean?” I pushed our hips together, my hand covering his on my cheek.

“I want you, Shepard. I’m not going to pretend I don’t want this.” At this, his other hand trailed down my body between my thighs where I could feel he was hard as I was. “If this is a one-night thing, though, I want to know that now. I can live with one last mistake.”

I winced, and not from the gentle pressure he put against my aching face.

“Was it always a mistake?”

“You’re not answering my question.” He backed one step backward.

“Answer mine.” I stepped forward.

“…No. It wasn’t always a mistake.”

“Then tonight’s not, either. I don’t… I don’t want a one night stand with you, Kaidan. I still… I still…” I couldn’t finish, and Kaidan pressed forward, kissing me deep, again, pushing my jacket off my shoulders in a way where he savored the feel of my arms, reaching for him.

We tumbled back towards the bed, his lips on mine, the scent of him all around me. I did love him, that night. I’d always loved him. The idea that no matter how much I had fucked up his life, he might still feel that way about me made me dizzier than any bottle I’d ever drained.

I put that thought out of my head. Concentrated only on the line of soft hair down Kaidan’s chest as he raced to unbutton his shirt, the way his slacks tented, and the hungry look in his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

I had memories at Omega, and none of them very good. Most of them not even complete. It was a gaudy, seedy club in all the ways the Collector Club tried to hide. There was a kind of carnal energy in the air and enough dark corners to hide any sin. I knew one or two of those dark corners intimately. The club was like one big black-out: lost time, a forgotten memory. When you left Omega, you left a piece of yourself behind, and it was a piece you probably shouldn’t go back and visit.

It was fitting, then, that the VIP lounge was called ‘After Life’. Black velvet and black leather, lights dim enough to reduce the dancers to naked silhouettes. There was a bouncer outside the After Life door. He held up a hand as I approached.

“Password.”

“Oleg’s Head.”

He narrowed his eyes but stepped aside and opened the door for me. The band was playing something low tempo and dark, the dancers gyrating in time with the music. I didn’t have time for any of it, pointed myself for the raised dais on one end of the room. Aria’s couch.

“Aria,” I walked past her goon-squad without making eye contact, keeping my gaze fixed on the Queen of Omega. If I was going to get the answers I needed, I needed to come in strong. “Glad to see you back in your own environs.”

I felt a gun pressed to my back—one of her goons—but she waved him back.

“Back again, Shepard. It’s dangerous, bothering me like this.”

“Never did get my favor last time.”

“And you think I owe you a favor, still? Please!”

“Never did cash in my favor from the whole ‘Patriarch’ business…” Her main goon, Terry or something, whipped his head to look at her. Aria only grit her teeth and beckoned me to sit down on the sofa next to her.

“I’m a woman of my word,” she cleared her throat and made a sign with her hand. Immediately, the band struck up a brassy, loud song. It was immediately apparent that nobody in the club was going to be able to hear anyone who was more than a few inches away. The goons dispersed, eyes scanning the crowd for anyone who might be listening. “I must admit, I didn’t think this day would come.”

“Trust me, me neither.”

“Who do you need dead, Shepard?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Then you’re wasting your favor.” Her eyes narrowed at me. “Is this about that Jacob Taylor fellow again? Please tell me your interest in him isn’t personal. It was pathetic enough watching you heartbroken the first time.”

“Not Jacob Taylor,” I wasn’t going to take her bait. I had to stay in control of this conversation. “The Collector Club.” That seemed to grab her attention, she grinned in a way that reminded me of a shark.

“Shepard, Shepard, Shepard,” she tutted. “Look how far you’ve come, from leaving the force and drinking yourself into a stupor right here in my bar, then trying to drink your way out of it when the man who resigned for you decided he’d had enough of your bullshit. And now here you are knocking on the doors of power. That mentor of yours—what’s his name—would be proud of you. I heard he’s dead.”

“Who owns the Collector Club, Aria?” I managed through grit teeth.

“Why?”

“That’s my business.”

“He has a number of aliases,” Aria eased back into her couch, regarded her club with a queenly demeanor. “Francis Wynn, Donovan Hock, Henry Judge—“

“Henry Judge?” I muttered, so Miranda had been telling the truth.

“That’s right.” She raised an eyebrow. “You know him?”

“Not me, but… he’s a friend of a friend.”

“I sincerely doubt that. The man doesn’t make friends. But his real name, and the name on the lease of the Collector Club, is Henry Lawson.”

“ _Lawson_?”

Aria laughed.

“Nevermind, Shepard, I like this favor. Starting to put any pieces together, yet?”

“He’s Miranda Lawson’s father? She’s adopted.”

“So it would seem.”

**++**

We met back at Kaidan’s office, he looked more flustered than I was used to seeing him, especially after I told him the information I’d gotten out of Aria.

“I went around to Judge’s place, caught his housekeeper as she was leaving for the night, managed to buy her a coffee and talk to her a little bit about what’s been happening in the Judge household. She told me about this young woman who’s been hanging around. I guess that must be Miranda. Apparently, she tracked down her father a few years ago, and has become more and more involved in his life over time.”

“Trying to reunite with her biological father,” I mused. “I can certainly see why she would want to hide that from the Illusive Man, but the level of cloak and dagger here seems like it’s a little beyond just standard caution.”

“We haven’t even touched on how the Illusive Man came to adopt her in the first place.” Kaidan leaned against his desk, knuckles down.

“Still,” I took one of his arms. He was tense, very tense. “It explains why Miranda was so flustered when I brought up that I was working for her father. She didn’t know which father I was talking about.”

“So she doesn’t know about me, yet, then.”

“You always were a better sleuth than me…” It made me feel proud to say, surprisingly. But it also made a part of me I couldn’t identify yet go cold.

“No one finds a missing person like you, Shepard.” Kaidan pushed himself up off the desk and bumped his shoulder against mine. “Anderson and I always get— _got_ —these infidelity cases. I’ve gotten pretty used to moving in the shadows. Except you caught me that one night.”

“I’m glad I did,” I smiled. Kaidan smiled back at me.

“Me too.”

I leaned in and so did he, but just before our lips could touch, he flinched back.

“We’re working, we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“So every night, she gets out of the house, takes her limo to god-knows-where, pays off the driver for the night, and gets in another car sent to her by Lawson. Takes her to the Collector Club.”

“I think it’s time we confront Jacob Taylor.”

++

Kaidan had already tailed Jacob to what he suspected was his apartment, so after the sun went down we drove over.

“Now I guess we wait,” Kaidan concluded, turning the car off. We were quiet for a long time, the car slowly growing colder in the chill of the night.

“On a stakeout with you,” I finally broke the silence, “I missed this.”

Kaidan turned to look at me, I could just see his eyes in the headlights of a passing car.

“Just… sitting here in silence, waiting for some thug to show his face? You miss _that_?”

“Yeah.” I missed Kaidan however I could get him but there was something about being on a job with him that always made me feel like I was right where I was supposed to be. Something safe about it. I couldn’t put it that way to Kaidan, though, not with how rocky things still were between us. I still wasn’t sure if the other night was a one-time affair… “I never feel like I need to say anything when you’re around. It’s a comfortable silence.”

“Not like with Anderson,” Kaidan chuckled, but didn’t contradict me. “Always had a story to tell when we were on a stakeout. I swear we almost missed our mark once because he was so into this story he was telling.”

“Yeah, Anderson.”

I shivered, wished I’d worn my trench coat. The mood in the car fell, and we sat in silence for a few minutes.

“He was proud of you, even at the end,” Kaidan said softly. “He never lost faith in you.”

“Thank you.”

Kaidan sighed.

“I think part of me always believed in you, too.”

“Th-thank you.” I couldn’t meet Kaidan’s gaze. “I’m pretty sure the two of you had more faith in me than I had in myself.” I couldn’t hold it in anymore, especially when Kaidan’s hand reached across and took mine. “I lost everything when I lost you, Kaidan—“

“Wait!” Kaidan’s hand slipped from mine and he pointed out the windshield. There was Jacob Taylor walking up the sidewalk toward his apartment steps. He was arm in arm with Miranda Lawson.

“Should we—“ But I didn’t get to finish my thought before two shady men appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. They wrenched Jacob away from Miranda, one man holding her back and the other socking Jacob across the jaw and kicking him to the ground. Miranda screamed.

Kaidan was halfway out of the car before I had reached for the door handle. Then we were running up the sidewalk, Kaidan heading for Miranda, me for the man assaulting Jacob.

The man was kneeling over Jacob’s prone form, pummeling him. I got a running start and tackled him off. But the man was too quick for me, quickly reversing the situation and pummeling me instead. Kaidan had the other guy from behind, pulling his jacket up over his head before kneeing him in the sternum.

A moment later Kaidan appeared above me, hauling the man off and pitching him to the curb. He reached down to take my hand and pull me up, there was a snarl on his face, and I hadn’t seen Kaidan in a fight in a long time. I shouldn’t have been thinking like that in the middle of a fight, myself, but I couldn’t help it. I managed to grab Kaidan by the shoulders, pull him to one side just as a man came barreling in to tackle him down.

“Enough!” Miranda shouted. She was on one knee above where Jacob was slowly sitting up, she had an elegant revolver pointed in our direction. The two goons backed away slowly and Miranda raised her pistol. One shook the dust off his jacket, growling at Miranda as he got in his car. They took off without another word.

By the time I turned back to Miranda, the revolver had disappeared and she was helping Jacob sit up, wiping at his bloody nose with a handkerchief.

“What the hell was that about?” Kaidan demanded, inspecting the scuffs on his palms, his swelling knuckles.

“Were you tailing me _again_ , Shepard?” Miranda snarled at me. Her handkerchief was already turning red, but Jacob was trying to wave her back, wincing as he stood up. It was the first good look I’d gotten at Jacob, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, the muscle evident even under blood stained shirt. I got the feeling that if he hadn’t been jumped, Jacob would’ve been more than capable of fighting off the two assailants.

“Here for him, actually,” I nodded to Jacob, who was reeling on his feet. “And good timing, too.”

“Who were those men?” Kaidan asked

“I didn’t recognize them,” Miranda daubed at Jacob’s nose. “I don’t think they’re my father’s men.”

“But which father?” I asked. That made her sit bolt upright. She sneered.

“Neither.”

“Seems a pretty convenient little assault, maybe your cover’s blown, Miranda.”

“What ‘cover’? You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then it’s time to start talking,” Kaidan said, taking a step forward. “Jacob, who do you work for?”

“The Reapers?” I supplied, “Cerberus?”

“I work for Miranda!” He sputtered, white teeth etched in red blood.

“I’m supposed to report back to the Illusive Man any day now, and I have  a feeling if he knew some of the places I’ve seen you, he’d have a thing or two to say. Now listen, I’ve kept a lot of this under wraps because I don’t like telling a story in pieces.” I drew a cigarette from my jacket pocket and lit it with a  match. Jacob stared daggers at me. “So let’s start simple. It was you I was chasing out of the Collector Club the other night wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he grunted.

“Why’d you run?”

“You were talking to Aria about me. Thought my cover was blown. Didn’t know that you were working for the Illusive Man, but anybody who found out I was playing both sides was bound to end up in the river, like your friend.”

“Did he figure you out? Did you kill him?”

“No!” Miranda answered for him, “He found out Henry Judge—“

“—your father,” Kaidan interjected. Miranda grimaced, the expression unfamiliar to her normally placid face.

“Henry _Lawson_ was getting ready to sell the Collector Club to the Reapers. He asked Lawson about it. That was it for him.”

“We were supposed to be tailing you,” Kaidan said. “Suddenly, his long lost daughter comes out of nowhere. Needs to know who she really is, what she might be hiding. Anderson figured out something bigger was going on.”

“But why is the Collector Club so important? Reapers want it, Cerberus wants it. It’s always been neutral ground.”

“Not as profitable to be neutral, anymore.” Miranda stood up, drawing her fur around her shoulders against the chill of the mist that had begun to creep down the street.

“The model of the city in the Illusive Man’s office,” I pressed. “He’s got plans for the Collector Club, too. Does he know the Henry Lawson’s been playing him against the Reapers?”

“My father wants the Collector Club because of what’s in the basement.” Miranda’s eyes were flashing. “There’s pneumatic tubes connecting it to practically everywhere in the city. Untraceable, almost instantaneous orders delivered anywhere in the city.”

“But how could the Illusive Man take over the Collector Club? If Lawson is selling it to the Reapers…”

Miranda rolled her eyes.

“The Reapers may have a wider grasp, but they don’t have a tighter hold. My father has a sterling reputation with half the city’s officials and dirt on the other half. Once he has his way, they’ll seize the whole neighborhood under eminent domain—turn the Collector Club into a public works installation, giving Cerberus full access to a city-wide communication system right under the city’s nose.”

“And what’s your part in this?” Kaidan growled.

“I don’t _have_ a part in it!” She hissed, taking Jacob’s arm. “I… I have a sister. Oriana Lawson. She still lives with… with that monster, Henry Lawson. I needed to get close enough where I could get to her, take her with me when Jacob and I leave the city.”

“You’re trying to rescue your sister?” Kaidan asked, incredulous. Miranda nodded.

“And thanks to you interfering, _Shepard_ ,” she spat my name, “I’ve had to move up my time-table.” The gun appeared in her hand again. “Now, get out of here.”

I knew she wouldn’t fire, and probably so did Kaidan, but we were good enough detectives to know it was time to leave already.

++

Kaidan’s apartment was as spotless as his desk. I felt out of place, knowing that this or that tidy corner used to be stacked with my clothes or my towel. The sink was free of the clutter I used to leave in it when I was in this apartment often.

Kaidan sighed, hung his hat and jacket on the coat rack, slipped off his shoes, and made for the kitchen table. He looked up at me as he tugged the knot out of his tie.

“Well, you coming in?” I hadn’t left the mat inside the door since stepping in.

“Oh, yeah,” I hung my hat next to Kaidan’s. Hung my coat next to Kaidan’s. Like we used to, our hats always side by side when they weren’t on our heads.

“You’ve got that look in your eye,” Kaidan walked into the kitchen and started making some coffee. “You thinking about the case?”

“Hm? No. Just thinking about… the mess I used to make of this place.”

Kaidan chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that always made me weak.

“You want any coffee?”

The whole apartment smelled like Kaidan, smelled like nights spent lying awake together, mornings making breakfast for each other.

“Nah, I should, erm. Someone told me I should sleep more.” I smiled and Kaidan smiled back. He took the pot off the stove top and switched it off.

“Me too, I guess.”

I was still walking around the house like a wraith through an old life. It was odd to be in such a familiar place and yet feel so out of place. I had wandered over to the bedroom.

The bed was well made. I couldn’t tell which was my favorite pillow anymore.

Kaidan touch my shoulders, hugged me back into his body. When I turned around, he was wearing only his slacks, undershirt, and suspenders.

“You staying the night?” It was barely a whisper.

“C-can I?”

“Yeah,” he un-knotted my tie and started unbuttoning my shirt. “You can.” I ran my hands up his bare arms to the shoulder, then let my fingers run down the front of his body along his suspenders. He slid my shirt off and leaned into me. I tipped my head and met him in a kiss. It was sweet, without the heat of need of the last time we were together, and for a moment, it felt like we had never been apart.  “Come sit on the bed with me.”

He switched off the light and led me to the bed. When I sat, I sank into that familiar, lumpy divot I remembered. Kaidan laid back on the bedspread and for a moment I just watched him in the slanting light of the window. He pulled me down, gently, and I scooted in closer till I could lay my head on his chest.

To feel him breathing again, to hear his heartbeat…

“Who were those men tonight, d’you think?” He asked sleepily. “Jacob didn’t seem to know them. And if either side had figured him out, he’d get a lot worse than a two-man brute squad.”

“Tell me why we called it off, Kaidan.” I couldn’t pay attention to anything he was saying, the feel of his body beneath me taking all my attention, the crack in the ceiling above the bed driving back every splinter of nostalgia.

“You know why we called it off,” he answered after a long moment.

“I do, yeah. But I think I need to hear you say it.”

“…we broke up because you started looking for meaning in life at the bottom of a bottle.” He said it so softly. “I told you I’d follow you anywhere, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold you in my arms as you drank yourself to death. I did follow you, Shepard. When you needed it most, I was there. So was Anderson. But you just pushed and pushed.”

“Yeah, I did.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not pushing anymore.”

“Can you even promise me you wouldn’t go back to that dark place again?” Kaidan sighed heavily, he was talking to himself as much to me. “Could I even believe you if you promised me that?”

“I’ll never touch another drop,” I rushed to say. “If that’s what it takes to have you back… to be back in your life.”

“Dammit, it’s not just that.” But he held me closer. “You were scared of _us_ and you didn’t want to admit it. You were scared of having someone important in your life. You’re such a damn loner, Shepard.”

“You’re right, I was scared.” I couldn’t keep the emotion out of my voice. “Now I’m just scared I’m going to have to live without you.”

The sounds of the street outside filled the silence. The city made sense at night, corridors of light and dark. I thought he had fallen asleep by the time Kaidan finally answered.

“You always had me,” he whispered “You just have to stay.”

“I’m staying.”

We fell asleep like that, the sounds of the street forgotten, my ear against Kaidan’s heartbeat, his soft breaths through my hair.

In the morning, there was a note slid under the door.

_“Mr. Alenko, it’s time we meet to discuss our business. Meet me tonight at the Collector Club._

  * _Henry Judge.”_




	5. Chapter 5

With all the lights off, the Collector Club had a sepulchral air to it. Closed tonight, the tall curtains seemed more like stone than like cloth as they hung in the darkness. The glittering chandeliers, without any light to catch in their multi-faceted hanging baubles, looked like so many glass cobwebs hanging about the vaulted ceiling. The only light came from the high window, the office window that overlooked the dining floor.

Kaidan and I made our way up the stairs and knocked at the door. She only opened the door a crack, but it was enough to see that  the woman who answered looked terrified, and no more than sixteen. She had Miranda’s dark hair and dark eyes, they could have been twins, but I had never seen Miranda look so afraid.

“I’m here to see Mr. Judge,” Kaidan said.

“Y-you were supposed to be alone.” Her voice squeaked and her wide, dark eyes turned to me.

“My business partner,” Kaidan answered, “Stepping in for the partner I lost.”

“Let them in, Oriana,” Came a dark voice from inside. She stepped out of the way and we walked into the room. It was an opulent office, the thick curtain across the window actually open. The carpet was the same red plush as in the restaurant, but lit by only a desk lamp, it looked almost black. There was a huge taxidermy eagle spreading its wings behind the desk chair, it cast a sinister shadow onto the ceiling. Henry Judge stood up from his chair and came around to the front of the desk. “Mr. Alenko, thank you for agreeing to meet me here. I was sorry to hear about your partner, Mr. Anderson, was it?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Won’t you introduce me to your new partner?”

“This is Shepard,” Kaidan answered curtly.

“Excellent,” he reached out and shook my hand, his palms were cold. During all this, Oriana had floated over near the window, her posture collapsing in on itself. “Won’t you both sit down?” He gestured to two leather wingbacks under the shadow of the eagle.

“We’d prefer to stand.” Kaidan removed photographs from his jacket pocket and handed them to Henry Judge. “I’ve followed Miranda Lawson for the past few days, everywhere she’s been is in those photos—“

Judge threw the pictures onto the desk without looking at them.

“Come now, Mr. Alenko. You’ve realized she’s my daughter, by now. No need to play coy.” He put his hands behind his back and paced over to the window where Oriana was cowering. “When she re-appeared in my life last year, it was the happiest I’d been in years. My daughter, fierce, determined, intelligent,” he seemed to sneer at Oriana. “Fearless. In my life once again. We agreed the Illusive Man could never know that we’d been reunited—not until Miranda was firmly established in my business. And she is. Her mind is really something singular. Thanks to her, I’ve restructured my whole business, no more cloak and dagger, but operating in the daylight, paying off the right people and ensuring my work appeared entirely above board.”

“She does seem intelligent,” Kaidan said, watching the man with that intense gaze of his.

“The last thing, then, was to sell off the club. It was her idea to sell it to the Reapers for a tidy profit.”

A cold feeling rushed down my spine.

“Her idea, was it?”

“Yes.” Henry Judge gave a shark-like smile. “I only needed to know that she was faithful to me, and me alone. Now, thanks to you, I know my daughter keeps nothing from me.”

Suddenly, down in the dark mausoleum of the Collector Club: a light. Fire crawled up one of the club’s heavy curtains, fanned across the vaulted ceiling. Oriana shrieked. Judge turned and let out a gasp. I could just make out the shape of a man running through the restaurant, splashing a canister of gasoline across the carpet: it was Jacob Taylor.

The door flew open, and there was Miranda Lawson, brandishing her revolver. She stepped into the room and smiled at Henry Judge, who looked aghast.

“Shepard,” she said, “Seems you’re always on the scene. I wonder if it’s skill or luck?”

Judge moved fast. Grabbed Oriana by the arm, a pistol in his hand suddenly, the blunt barrel pressed into her temple, her body between him and Miranda’s pistol. Oriana screamed and froze.

“Ori!” Miranda cried.

“Miranda!” Judge hissed. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking my sister, _father_.”

“I promised you my empire and you betray me!” He screamed, his face turning red.

“Don’t be a fool,” she circled around her eye fixed on Judge as his was fixed on her. “I wanted your empire, and I’m taking it.”

“One more step and you’ll be cleaning your sister out of the carpet of your new office.”

Kaidan had been inching closer to Judge, trying to get behind him, when he seemed to fumble his gun, Kaidan leapt forward.

A shot rang out.

Kaidan slumped to the floor.

“Kaidan!” The cry ripped out of me before I could stop it. I made for Kaidan’s prone form, but Judge leveled his gun at me.

“Everyone stay back, nobody move!” He backed up until his back was against the window. The Collector Club was ablaze on the other side of the window, the chandeliers crashing into the flaming carpet. The curtains had turned into walls of fire. “Put your gun down, Miranda. So help me I am not going to ask you twice.” He pointed the gun back at Ori’s head.

Miranda dropped her pistol, the slightest hint of worry creeping into her icy expression. She kicked the gun away.

Kaidan groaned on the floor.

“There’s no exit strategy here, Judge.” My voice was a snarl, though my hands were raised like Miranda’s. All I could think about was getting to Kaidan, I couldn’t even tell how badly he was bleeding with the blood red carpet.

“Shut up! Let me think!”

He pressed the barrel of the gun to Oriana’s head and she shrieked at the burn on her skin, wriggled just enough to escape his grip.

Miranda shot forward. There was a shot that flew into the ceiling. She rushed into Judge, shoulder down. With a shatter of glass, Henry Judge screamed as he crashed through the window and down into the flaming club. There was a sickening thud, and then only the sound of the flames devouring the building.

I ran forward and rolled Kaidan over, he needed medical attention, and quick. Miranda spared a moment to check on Oriana before rushing to collect her pistol again, she leveled it at me.

“So much for saving your sister!” I spat.

“I _am_ saving my sister!” Miranda cried, the blast of heat through the broken window making both of us sweat. “When this place burns to the ground, I take over Henry Lawson’s company _and_ I keep my father from getting his hands on the Collector Club. I get out of this life of crime for good, and I take my sister with me.”

“You really think the Illusive Man will let you escape, knowing you double-crossed him?”

“He’ll never know. Jacob Taylor. Working for the Reapers. _He_ destroyed the club.”

“Someone else to take the heat for you from both sides. Except for me. I know what really happened.”

“Now you get the picture,” she shouted over the rippling blaze. She eyed me down the barrel.

“Miranda, please don’t!” Oriana still pressed a palm to the burn against her temple, but pulled at Miranda’s arm with the other hand. “No more killing! Please, Miranda, we need to leave!” Miranda looked torn for a moment. There was a crash as the ceiling above the restaurant collapsed.

“Goodbye, Shepard.” She turned on her heel, pulling Oriana behind her. I immediately lifted Kaidan to his feet.

“Kaidan, can you hear me? Kaidan!” He groaned, but seemed to find his feet. “We’re getting you out of here, stay with me, keep your hand pressed there—“ he winced. “Press hard.”

The stairs were beginning to burn as I towed Kaidan downstairs and towards the back exit. We emerged onto the street, singed and smoking, and Kaidan collapsed.

++

I got Kaidan to the hospital in time. Barely, the doctors said.

I waited by his bedside every day. The nurses got used to me.

A few days later, a man in a prim pin-stripe suit and grey hat showed up at the hospital room and I could tell from the lump under his arm he was carrying. I knew what it meant, it was time to make my final report to the Illusive Man.

++

“She set fire to the club, then she took her sister and left,” I finished my story as the Illusive Man watched me from between steepled fingers. He was quiet for a long moment.

“My daughter,” he cleared his throat, “Has been hustling Henry Judge for a year to take over his empire. And you’re saying she sabotaged me in the process.”

I shrugged, removed the cigarette from between my lips.

“I’m not saying anything other than what happened, than what she said. You’re paying me to do a job. I did the job.”

“You certainly did, Shepard. You certainly did.” He eased back into his chair. “My daughter, right under my nose… good for her.” He snapped his fingers and one of his goons brought him a cigarette. Come to think of it, it was the first time I’d seen him without one. “I’m sad to see her go.”

“You want us to track her down, boss?” One of the men leaning against a bookcase asked.

“Hm? Oh. No. She’ll make herself known at some point. I’m proud of her. Losing the Collector Club is a major blow, there’s no way around that. But it’s as much a blow for the Reapers. Can hardly blame her. I stirred the pot, after all.”

“So much for not mixing your business and your family life.” I tried to make the words burn, but the Illusive Man didn’t take it.

“We’re both men who like things in ordered categories, aren’t we, Shepard? It does grieve me on some level that my daughter decided to get into the family business. But we all must learn to appreciate the space between spaces, mustn’t we? You know the city’s not so simple as having ‘good’ people and ‘bad’ people—you of all people. What Miranda did hurt me, but I admire her tenacity, and I dare say you admire her motives.”

“I think there are people who are truly, just good. And I know I’m not one of them, but I believe they exist.”

“A romantic, eh Shepard?”

“I suppose so.”

“Looks like I chose the right man for the job, then!” He crowed.

“I’m not an idiot,” I said, finally. “I know why it was me you hired and not someone else. Shepard the drunk, you knew Miranda would catch me tailing her. Knew it’d speed up her plans. You wanted to rattle her, force her hand. You used me.”

The Illusive Man smiled broadly

“How long before you figured that out?”

“I suppose part of me knew from the start.”

“And I certainly got my money’s worth out of you Shepard. Didn’t expect you to see it through all the way to the end like this, though. Should I attribute that to your sudden sobriety? Or perhaps a certain partnership?” I didn’t answer and the Illusive Man chuckled. “I’m not Henry Lawson, Shepard. Here, I have your fee, as promised. With a little something extra.”

Being paid to be a tool, but my pride wasn’t too great to not accept the money.

++

I paid my tab at the Normandy.

Paying my tab at Omega turned out to be a more involved activity. Mr. Gorgeous came to meet me at the bar and led me over into After Life and up to Aria’s couch.

 

“Shepard,” Aria gestured for me to sit and had Mr. Gorgeous bring me a cigarette and a light. “Benny tells me you paid off your entire tab. Does this mean I shouldn’t expect your sorry ass at my bar anymore?”

“Turning over a new leaf. Got a new reason. And a new business partner. Time I start acting like I’m here to stay.”

“Don’t you have something you want to say to me, Shepard.” Her eyes bored into me.

“Love what you’ve done with your hair?”

“’Thank you, Aria’” she mocked.

“I thought we were square-up on the favors. You gave me information, I helped you out with the—“

“Not the information, Shepard.” She shifted in her seat, her posture still a practiced disinterest. “Who do you think attacked Jacob Taylor that night outside his apartment.”

“I had been wondering about that. Your boys?”

She nodded firmly.

“Your subtle approach wasn’t getting you anywhere, so I thought I’d help you out, speed the process along a little bit. Scare Miranda into talking. Based on the smoldering crater where the Collector Club used to be, looks like it worked.”

“And lucky for you, all the former clientele are looking for a new club.”

“And I’ve been able to raise my protection rates without a peep out of any of my shop owners.”

“You’re all heart.”

“Let the Reapers and Cerberus eat each other alive. I’ll be here.” With that, I stood up and headed for the door, but Aria called back to me, “Shepard, you owe _me_ one, now.”

++

I watched the painter carefully paint in my name on the glass of the door:

ALLIANCE PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS  
KAIDAN ALENKO * JOHN SHEPARD

I never thought I would see my name back on that door, side by side with Kaidan. We’d gone together to Anderson’s grave, left a wreath. Part of me still couldn’t believe he was gone, that my name would be replacing his on the door of the business we all started together. But it was hard for me to believe a lot of things, these days. Kaidan was out of the hospital and back in my arms.

One day, a sum of money had arrived by ‘special courier’: it was the sum Anderson and Kaidan had agreed upon for tailing Miranda.

“You’ve gotta respect someone who pays for own investigation.” Kaidan chuckled, easing himself to sit on the edge of my desk. He picked up a model plane and turned it over in his hands.

“She’s a consummate business woman, that’s for sure.”

“We were lucky to get out of there alive.” He set the plane down, “You know, I don’t think I thanked you in the hospital for getting me out of there.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you there to bleed out! Or burn to death, or—“

Kaidan touched my lips.

“Just let me say ‘thank you.’”

I leaned in and kissed him and the painter gave us a scandalized look.

“I’m always going to be there for you.”

“I know.” I leaned my head on Kaidan’s shoulder.

“You make me brave, Kaidan. I want you to know that… that it’s different this time.”

“I believe you. I’ve always believed in you. I’m glad you found your way back to me.”

Outside the window, rain had begun to fall on my city. Kaidan winced as he stood up to look through the blinds. I put my arms around him, leaning my chin on his shoulder. I hated the rain, the way it muddied everything up, the light and the dark all blurring together. It was a beautiful city, it was a mean city, and it was hard to tell the two apart in the rain.

Kaidan always preferred the rain to the heartbeat of the city: the rattle of cars and clamor of crowds and the hum of the electricity. When I closed my eyes, I could hear Kaidan’s heartbeat. That was all I needed in this city.

There’s not much else to tell than that.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading my convoluted little attempt at a hardboiled AU! I am very grateful and honored you made it to the end. Thank you so much for coming by, and you really mean a lot to me.


End file.
